Page 165 of Love ad Lib
Vivienne: May I come to your show next week? Vivienne XO
Libby: I’m sorry, I would find it too difficult to perform if you did. I’m so sorry for lying to you all.
Vivienne: Honey, stop with that. Everything’s fine. We all love you XO
Claire: I know you feel like the world has ended, but I promise you it hasn’t. Please come over so I can give you a hug xxx
After a weekend curled up with Mr Pussy and a tub of ice cream, Libby dragged herself out of Jack’s flat to visit Claire. Henry had finally stopped texting, but his family hadn’t. She knew they meant well, but each time a new message arrived, memories flooded back of the shame and humiliation, and the anxiety made her want to throw up.
If Henry’s family had bombarded her with communications, Lucas hadn’t been in touch at all. Maybe he’d got what he wanted? She’d reconciled herself to never getting her money back from him.
Even though she didn’t want to stay rent-free in Jack’s flat, she had Mr Pussy to think of. She could no longer stay with Claire and there was no room back with her parents in Birmingham. Last week she felt like her life had taken two steps forward. Now she was back at the starting line once more.
‘Come here.’Claire drew Libby in for a hug as soon as the front door opened.
‘You feeling better?’
Claire disengaged and pulled a face. ‘Fuck no. I’ve just been sick again. But the doctor says it’s not contagious.’
‘What’s wrong with you then?’
‘Let’s have a cuppa and we can chat. Harper’s down for a nap and Ritchie’s out shopping, so we’ve got time to catch up.’
Libby looked across a sea of toys, blankets, rockers and a baby gym in the living room. Henry was right. There was no way she could have stayed here.
‘Have you talked to Henry?’ Claire asked.
She shook her head.
‘You’re still that angry?’
Libby nodded.
‘Are you angry at him for helping or because you didn’t know?’
‘Both.’
‘But if he did tell you, you wouldn’t have accepted it.’
She was silent. Claire was right. If Henry hadn’t done what he did, she’d have spent the last few weeks tripping over baby toys, sleeping on a lumpy sofa and losing her mind.
‘What’s so wrong with your boyfriend helping you out when you’re in need?’
Libby shrugged. She couldn’t articulate why it had upset her so much. It just seemed so unequal. She had nothing to contribute in return.
‘If I was homeless with debts up to my eyeballs,’ Claire continued. ‘And you had an extremely well-paid job, would you offer to help me out?’
‘Of course I would! But it’s different.’
‘How?’
‘Because you’re my friend!’
‘So, if I was homeless with debts up to my eyeballs, andRitchiehad an extremely well-paid job, would it be wrong of him to help me?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘What’s the difference?’
